


Open for Business

by lexari



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Bakery, Bike Shop, Eren Is a Little Shit, Erwin loves emojis, Fluff, Humor, Levi Has A Sweet Tooth, Levi secretly loves cute things, M/M, Modern AU, One Shot, There's external Hange and Internal Hange, and they're both exactly the same
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 09:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4429808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexari/pseuds/lexari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A pretty bakery has opened across from Levi's slow growing bike shop. </p><p>(alternately, sugar fucks up his whole let's-be-fit community spiel)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open for Business

Levi clambers off his bike, none too gracefully – his two mile ride to his crisp, retro-themed bike shop complete. His legs, shamelessly attired in those practical biker shorts (“Ridiculous,” Hange cackled in the fitting room, until suddenly Hange’s mouth hurt from a fierce, unexpected pressure applied by four knuckles) ache with the satisfaction of exercise well done. As he reaches his fingers into his pocket to find his bike lock, and turns to secure his sleek, charcoal ride to the stop sign that is in front of his charming corner store (and fuck you, its very charming thank you very much), he glances up, squinting as even the shadow of red tarp that was on top of the door to his shop crossed his face. And he couldn’t believe his very eyes.

After weeks, nay, months of owning this semi-decent rented out five-by-two-feet closet (it’s still charming, only he is allowed to criticize it, a.k.a fuck you) that he called his shop, of persuading people to buy bikes and to actually bike around the city, of offering weekend cycling groups to promote health and fresh air, of interacting with his deadpan shit skills in order to let bored older housewives think that they’d get their sex life back along with their figures—

There is a bakery opening. Across the street. A fucking bakery, a little fucking hole in the wall with nothing but glass windows and cupcakes, cookies, muffins, and a disgusting layer of powdered sugar over everything; a fucking sugary pit of death and obesity. Across the street.

Levi stared at the windows in disbelief – and for a second fucking swore that his six pack was disappearing under a layer of fat; he drops his bike lock. It is only when he bends to pick it up that he is acutely aware of every muscle – lean, taut, and, and (“Rippling,” – shut up, internal Hange, I see you in real life enough, I don’t need a Jiminy Cricket chock full of bullshit in my head). But yes, his body was clean, clear, and under control – like that face wash he always saw advertisements for during his marathons of crossfit competitions. He really needed to stop watching television, his body was fine but his brain was becoming absolute mush.

He locks up his bike, and turns to open up shop, and then his brain is entirely distracted by the triple threat of sound, smell, and taste – he hears the other shop’s door open, a soft bell tinkling in the distance, as his nose is assaulted by the smell of melting sugar, so strong that it clouds his mind and practically crystallizes on his tongue, he tastes sugar and sweet, sweet temptation.

Rule Number One, Levi: Always eat breakfast, you stupid fuck.

He scrambles into his bike shop because no fucking way is he dealing with meeting his new neighbor(s), how did he not realize this was happening, how is he supposed to deal with this, is he going to have to sell protein bars and shit because fuck he was doing fine before but now he knows all his customers are going to get fat because they are stupid (and he means this in the best way but he knows they’re stupid because Jean Kirschtein once asked him if melted cheese had more calories than non-melted cheese because “It’s so much tastier!” and who the fuck asks that?)

He grabs the disinfectant spray bottle from under the counter and begins misting it over the top of the counter, calming down at maintenance, at routine – he had a stint at the navy to get through college, it became a thing – he breathes in, and is good. For a second.

His door opens, it doesn’t creak, it is clean and well maintained like the spokes on his bikes, but the bell on top clangs; not unpleasantly, just sharp and short – like the man it alerts daily. His door doesn’t creak, but he looks up, an ominous fear striking him, as he hears footsteps approaching the desk, and shifts his eyes slightly to see remains of powdered sugar and flour gracing his polished, previously immaculate tiles. Tiles that he has to work on every day and what is it with people not being fucking animals I mean it’s not even about the cleanliness (well, sort of) but it’s about the entitled way people messed up his hard work.

His head shifts up, brows knit tight with one part coldness and three parts pissed, with a dash of exhaustion (shaken well and served over dry ice) and—

Holy shit.

 Oh no, he’s… cute.

 He’s fucking adorable and just because Levi is short and sharp and angular in every sense of the word… oh, fuck no. This boy is absolutely, cheek pinching, stuffed-animal-worthy, cute. His face is soft, with smooth cheekbones and a button nose; chocolate brown hair that reached his chin – mussed and tussled so right (so wrong). His skin is caramel and his eyes are blue - no, green, uh, gold? - and shine like the colored sugar that glitters on the cake at the window across the street. This young man should have his picture taken and pasted next to the word sweet.

Levi loves cute and has an ultimate weakness to it, so when this boy/man/thing walks in all smooth with pouty, pillowy lips – well, Levi wants to fucking die. Preferably by an overdose of the disinfectant spray that remains clenched tightly in his hands, displaying the lean muscles in his forearm. He places the spray back under the counter before he sprays the baker in half-assed self defense from adorable overload. Error, Error, 401, Levi not found. Please refresh the day or try again later.

“Hey,” Levi spits out, awkward and curt, “welcome to Ackerman’s Specialty Bike Shop.” In his mind, he finishes the stupid jingle coined by, you guessed it, Hange (and no, not internal bullshit Hange, but real life goggles and gross shit Hange), “cruise and schmooze, or attack that fat, we’ve got you covered.” Well I’ve got you covered. Shit, no, not like that. Fuck.

“I’m Eren,” the baker started, “Eren Jeager, nice to meet ya’… sir!”

“Sir?”

The baker, Eren, continues his now-clearly-seen-as-planned-neighbor-speech, “I’m the owner of the bakery across the street, Crystallize! As part of our opening day, I had wanted to give a little gift to the shop owners nearby!”

Levi arches a single brow.

“Uhm, here ya’ go!”

Eren places on the counter a delicately packaged box – brown paper covered the whole thing, but on the top was a little white cut-out in the shape of a crystal, with Crystallize written in cursive on top. He turns to leave but stops when Levi calls out, “Oi, Eren!”

Shit why the fuck did I call ou-

“Did you not recognize this is a bike shop?” Levi looked at his face, Eren becoming more confused with Levi’s tone of voice which was admittedly too harsh… he turns back to Levi.

“I did notice. Why, eh, Mister?”

“Levi. Drop that honorifics shit, it’s mildly disturbing. You do realize we are supposed to be the epitome of health and shit, right? Like, ya know, fitness and exercise and all that wonderful stuff that does not permit for whatever this is?” He lifts up the box, and continues, “I mean, yeah I appreciate it as much as the next shop over, but it’s not my thing.”

“What do you want me to do then, Mr. Levi?”

“Kid—“

“Hey, I’m not a ki—“

“And I’m not a mister. Respect that shit, baker boy.” Levi looks at him, neck tensing slightly with how disappointed he was at having to reject something that smelled so good. “Save it – don’t waste it on me.”

Eren looks at him, tilts his head slightly, “So what? You would throw it away.”

“Give it – but I wouldn’t eat it. I don’t know what’s in it.” Eren looks to interrupt, and Levi continues, with a single finger pointed in a silencing manner, “And even if I did, it would be too fattening, sugary, and overall unhealthy.”

“I made it for you.”

“No, you made it for your neighboring shops.”

“Yes. And this one is for this shop – which you own. Just eat it!”

“Nah.”

“Levi!” Eren says, frustrated and red at the ears with one flour-ed hand ruffling at his hair. Cute, cute, cute! Eren grabs the package, and gently takes off the brown paper, revealing a pastry box. He opens it up and inside is a red velvet cupcake with white icing, and a little red icing bike on the top, covered in a layer of that colored tiny sugar that Levi had only had once as a child – it was his fourth birthday, a year before his grandmother was too sick with age and he had to live with his batty aunt who happened to be the most crazy child obesity therapist ever… but that’s beside the point.

He really wanted to eat this. Like, this was more tempting than that one Christmas where he almost bought a 10-year subscription to some really expensive site that had all five of his favorite tea flavors and would ship it monthly to his dignified apartment (read: industrial style bachelor pad) door.

Aloud, Levi asks Eren, “Will you get off my ass if I eat this?”

Internally, Levi asks Eren, “Can I touch your ass if I eat this?” He even imagines a winky emoji face.

He understands what they’re used for, even if he doesn’t indulge in their inherent stupidity. (Stupid fucking Erwin of all people used emojis up the ass like tomorrow they wouldn’t exist like this man is the epitome of stern, poker face – he’s a fucking personal lawyer for christ’s sake and he probably would send notification of someone inheriting something from their grandparent’s will after they fucking DIED with the thumbs up emoji selected afterwards feat. THE CORRECT SKIN COLOR because Erwin’s serious about emojis in that way.)

“Yes!” and Eren smiles.

Levi looks at the cupcake, determined. God, if saying he would do something for this sugar fiend made him smile this perfectly god knows what expression Levi would see if he actually went through with that action.

Levi picks it up, Auntie Agnes crooning in the background how sugar is gonna plump you up Levi and when it does I’m going to roll your sorry ass to the high school football stadium because god knows they needed a blimp. Auntie Agnes was a bitch. Levi knew that. Auntie also lost that therapy license really quick.

Levi takes a good sized bite. He can’t believe he cut out sugar from his diet for so long.

How was he still alive?

Levi opens his eyes, unaware of when the closed, to see Eren leaning in closer than he expected.

“Was it good?” Eren questions, eyes big and bright and expecting.

“How about you try, and tell me? You’re the one who works with this on a daily basis.” Levi turns the cupcake towards Eren. Eren reaches for it with his hands only for Levi to move it closer to his mouth. Catching on, Eren takes a bite with Levi still holding the cupcake, suddenly nervous and a little bit messy, with icing left on the corner of his mouth.

Levi takes his thumb and swipes at it, and places his thumb on the tip of Eren’s bottom lip. Eren chews, swallows, and licks the tip of Levi’s thumb with his tongue.

“I think it’s really good – one of my best, actually!”

Levi mutely nods. And then blurts out, “This is the first sweet I’ve had in years, so I’ll take your word on it.”

“First?”

Levi nods again. His brain has officially shut down.

“Oh my god you are missing out on so much – mmmpppffffh.”

Levi shoved another part of the cupcake into Eren’s mouth. Eren chews, swallows and glares.

“What was that for!?”

“I don’t need the lecture, I get it, I haven’t actually been living life, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. You do realize that you’re probably gonna get unhealthy if you allow people to shove food in your mouth right?”

“I wasn’t exp- mmmMMMMM.”

Levi laughs. “I see you haven’t learned your lesson. Here’s the deal. I didn’t wanna like you or your baking shit or anything that would make my patrons fat because face it, you’re new and I’ve been here for a while now trying to get people in this community to do everything in moderation, avoid temptation, you know, actually give a shit about balancing their lives and controlling their impulses. And you come in with this cupcake that even makes me re-evaluate my life.”

Eren swallows again. Levi takes the same thumb and wipes the frosting off his mouth, and brandishes the thumb like a weapon in Eren’s face.

“So, either you join in on the whole ‘You-Can-Have-Some-Sweets-But-You-Have-to-Work-Out’ thing I’m trying to do or… well, I don’t know but I’ll figure it out.”

Levi pauses, gives his best murder glare, the type reserved for the one time Erwin rode his bike and Hange sat her disgusting ass on the handlebar.

“And you won’t like it.”

Eren’s face scrunches up, and Levi is filled with panic – Oh no, I destroyed the cute, he’s gonna cry or some shit, how do you remove flour and sugar mixed with tear water off the floor, it’s probably going to stain my floor as much as it stains my soul, this is sacrilegious I’m going to have to go to confession I’m not even religious fuck-

Eren giggles. Covers his mouth as if to hold it in. Giggles some more. And then the laugh erupts from his belly. He places his forehead against the counter and Levi is treated to the sight of Eren’s back and the top of his butt (if he just tiptoes a little).

“You know, I didn’t actually make a cupcake for everyone, right?”

Levi steps back a step. Distancing himself from the source of confusion.

“I had only made a cupcake for you because I wanted an excuse to come in. I wanted to see what kind of guy was across the street from my bakery. I was determined that if I liked you I would bring my bike to repair here, and maybe join that cycling group advertised for the weekend.”

Levi steps forward again. Waist against the counter he leans in close to Eren’s face – if he can’t escape the confusion he will analyze it.

Eren grabs Levi’s thumb, the one still covered in frosting, and licks at it again. Grabs the pen from the clipboard on the desk that has a signup sheet for the cycling group. Signs his name, grabs Levi’s arm, and writes his number on the inside.

He puts back the pen, bravado lost with the end of his plan.

“Eh, well, ah… see you around, Instructor Levi! You can reach me at that number if you want to talk about more than cycling.”

He goes to turn from the counter and leave when he turn back and pinches the cheek of a confused, stock still Levi.

“Cute.”

And Eren leaves.

Levi finally stands up straight, 30 seconds after Eren left. Takes out his phone and immediately puts the number in.

 There is a bakery opening across the street. Filled with sweets and sugar and a good ‘ole helping of happiness. Filled with an utter mess that would drive Levi crazy. Owned by a baker who would convince Levi that it’s okay to be a little crazy.

He texts Eren.

> **9:36: I thought u were cute 1st.**

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this is my first Shingeki fanfic. It's also my first update on this site since 2013. Shame on me. Also, my work always looks shorter once I upload it to this damn site and that fucks with me on so many levels.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, leave a comment, and I'm always open to requests!


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